


Before I Wake

by GarbageHell



Category: Borderlands
Genre: F/M, Incest, PWP, Somnophilia, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 21:36:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4321641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarbageHell/pseuds/GarbageHell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Facing eridium induced insomnia, Angel is put on a sleep medication. Ever the loving father, Jack insists upon staying with her until she falls asleep each night. Things get out of hand quickly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before I Wake

The pill is inconspicuous, just another in the long line of drugs Angel's endured over her entire life. Light blue like the sheets on her bed, she takes it dry without any fuss and eyes Jack over the paper cup offered.

 “Angel- water.” he commands at her act- a statement, like everything she does. She smiles, finally, and takes the cup from his hand. A tiny sip of cool water chases it, and she lays her head down, settling.

 “Do your pillows need to be fluffed?” he asks, sitting in a chair by her bed. She turns her head, exhales through her nose, a tiny scoff. Though her eyes are closed, he can tell she’s rolled them at him. His nails dig into his palm.

 “They’re fine.” she concedes, “If the pill is as strong as it’s supposed to be, I might as well be laying on rocks.”

 “Still matters- I want you to be comfortable,” he offers, she keeps her face plain and expressionless, not wanting to betray her feelings.

 Silence sits between them like a wall, not even the tick of a clock to ease it. Both of them wonder how long it will take her to fall asleep.

 She cracks her eyes open slightly, staring at the ceiling, then looks at him. He feels her scrutiny, shifts in his seat.

 “This will help you, Angel.” he tells her, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest, eyeing the small cup the pill came in. She hums back a response.

 “Help? This is swallowing a dog to catch the cat...” she says after a heavy yawn, shifting onto her side. Sleep is ebbing at her mind now, loosening her tongue. There’s a lot on her mind, jumbled together, but she’s too tired to really care.

   Jack bites his tongue a moment, but can’t hold back his thoughts.

   “This is necessary,” he hisses, and she jolts as she feels his hand on her cheek, gentle though it is. Her skin is cold, as it has always been. Even tucked under the blankets, she retains a chill that reminds him of the station walls. He shivers despite himself.

   “It’s just a few weeks, baby- if you didn’t burn yourself out, we wouldn’t be here,” he says, as if it were her fault the eridium chased away rest, as if she had been doing it on purpose to drag him back. She feels a smile tug at the corner of her lips- she can’t deny she’s been pleased at the setbacks.

 She feels him kiss her forehead, though the medication has her now and she does not react. When he pulls his hand back, she’s fast asleep.

 He sighs and leans his face into his hands, frustrated. At least she had fallen asleep quickly; the few words she had shared though, were poisoned. Mistrust, anger… when did he become such a stranger to her?

 “I do it all for you, baby,” he murmurs sadly, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

 “One day, you’ll realize that,” he reassures himself and rises to his feet. He can’t help but linger over her, brushing the dark hair out of her face.

 For once she looks peaceful. Her eyes aren’t open to pierce him, her lips are almost a smile. Heart in his throat, he gives her forehead another kiss, hovering above her. She looks perfect as she always does- but now, there’s no malice aimed at him, no walls left between them.

 Without thinking, he leans down and kisses her lips, eyes closed, hand on her cheek again. Her face is cool against his, her skin soft.

 He pulls back when he realizes what he’s done- Jack takes a step back as his heart jolts. The press of his knuckles against his lips aren’t enough to dispel how hers felt, and he hurries out of the room, stopping only to turn the light off at the doorway and glance at her. He can’t find it in himself to let his eyes linger this time.

* * *

 “You’re quiet tonight,” she comments the next time he brings her the medication. This time she swallows it with a gulp of the water and sits up as they wait for it to take effect.

Jack doesn’t meet her eyes or even look at her, fixing his view on the wall across from her. The whole wall is a screen set currently to display a night sky, it’s constellations highlighted. It seems almost childish, he thinks now.

 Anything to distract himself from what’s consumed his thoughts all day- the kiss, and what it meant.

 “Lots on my mind,” he replies tersely while glancing down to his echo, counting the time. She smiles. He’s right where she wants him, and she keeps him pinned there as minutes flicker by.

 He doesn’t look her in the eyes, but he can feel her watching him.

 “You’d do anything for me, right?” she asks seemingly out of the blue, and he feels his face flush under his mask when it registers.

 “Excuse m-” is all he gets out before she cuts him off.

 “Is that what’s on your mind?” she asks, and shifts onto her side, eyes meeting his before she shuts them and cuddles into the pillow. Her voice is almost sympathetic.

 "I… ” he mutters and bites his tongue.

“Baby… don’t worry about it. Go to sleep, okay?” he says, and she chuckles lightly, peeping at him a moment through her eyelashes. But she’s feeling the weight of herself again, and she can’t deny the way to sleep is calling.

He counts the breaths she takes, and when he thinks she’s finally asleep he shifts closer in his seat. He looks at her like she’s the north star and he’s desperately lost.

“Angel?” he asks softly after a few minutes. When she doesn’t respond, he lets out a shaky sigh. Maybe it was sheer coincidence, but that doesn’t dispel the spike of nerves she’s left him with.

“You know I’d do anything for you…” he whispers. Very quickly he finds himself on his knees at her bedside while looking up at her with the deepest reverence he can muster.

Again he brushes her soft hair from her face, then realizes his other hand is resting on one of her legs, still snug under the blankets.

Why had she asked that, of all things? He can’t help but feel it was a dare, one that he feels sick over.

Anything… he draws his hand up her side, to meet his other on her face. She doesn’t respond to his touch, Angel is out cold. Jack removes them as he stands, and with breath hitching

he adjusts her delicately until she’s on her back. Just making her comfortable, he tells himself. The blankets still cover her, but they’re not enough to obscure her form. Embarrassed, he looks to her face again- her soft lips parted ever so slightly, eyes shut, relaxed- before he smooths his hands over the flat blankets with a sigh. He considers the texture of them, distracting himself right up till his hand reaches her and he’s forced to consider other things.

His stomach twists while his hands shake as he caresses her, palms splayed as widely as they can. He wants to take in as much of her as possible. Jack’s breathing grows heavier as he goes, his motions becoming firm and rougher over her as he starts to work himself up.

When he leans onto the bed, raising a knee onto it that makes her dip, he notes with frustration how even and gentle her breath is compared with his own. Perhaps it’s better that way- would it be better if she were rising to meet his advances, or worse?

He doesn’t linger long on the question, shifting up to straddle her. The blankets pull tighter over her. He feels the heat of shame in his stomach as he lets his hands linger on her, running from her hips up to her shoulders, then to the cold exposed skin of her neck.

“Baby,” he mutters in his worship, “my Angel…”

 Clumsy, almost numb fingers edge the top of her shirt down until he can see the white mark centered in her chest.

 “You’ve always meant the world to me,” he starts, leaning down till his lips meet her neck to trail kiss after kiss down. Her head lolls to the side, and she murmurs something, the first noise she’s made since he started. It makes him freeze, pull back as he feels ice creep down his spine, almost putting out his fire.

 But she stays asleep- the medication is strong, stronger than anyone could resist. It’s wrong he knows, but if this is the only connection she’ll let him have, he’ll take it.

 “I… love you,” he says, more an exhalation than vocalization. Jack is still singing with anxious, desperate energy. His hands run up till he’s cupping her face once again. Her cheeks are cold and soft against his palms as he twirls the fingers of his hand in her hair. This isn’t right.

 “I love you,” he repeats. It is his desperate explanation to himself as to why he’s let this encounter go so far. Every ounce of love lost that they’ve let slip between their fingers, he’s going to make up for.

 The walls of Angel’s room go black, casting them both into deeper darkness that pulls him out of his trance; he freezes, measures out the time in her breaths as he holds his own.

 With a shiver he watches two words type out slowly over the walls: “Prove it”.

 The message displays only a second before it’s gone, walls flickering back to displaying the glitter of stars. He’s left alone with them as the command sinks in, and his heart pounds in his throat. He stares at the spaces in between the dots of light, waiting for some further input, doubting his own eyes

 But there is a flicker of realization in his mind- that was hardly a plea for him to stop. Telling himself that, repeating that in his mind, he tests with another kiss into the crook of her neck. When the screens do not respond, he sighs out his tension, leaning into her now. Shoulders meet his caresses, both chilled, smooth though hidden under her simple cotton shirt.    

 Tucked away as she is, he can’t do much beyond paw and grope at her like some creep. The thought has him climbing off her and the bed altogether.

 Like pulling the bandaid off a raw injury, he untucks her slowly. His heart only beats faster in anticipation as her shoulders come into view, then the gentle curves of her chest, and finally her ribs. Cold, her nipples poke up obviously.

 He stops a moment, red faced, as he wonders when exactly she crossed the line from child to adult. He starts to wonder something else. Gingerly, he lets go of the blankets and slips his hand under them curiously, leaning down until he’s balancing on an elbow.

 Between the fabric of the blanket and her shirt, finally, he feels the first traces of warmth he can ever recall feeling from her. It only invites him further, till he’s edging his fingers at the waist of her pajama pants.

 Hesitation causes him to pause. Jack’s eyes flick to her face again, then to the stars across from him, pleading silently for direction.

 None comes, and he swallows his fear as best he can. She already told him what to do- the only thing left is to have some backbone and meet her challenge.

 “I’ll show you…” he says, though his jaw tenses and his teeth press together as he slips under the hem of her bottoms until his fingers meet a patch of soft hair. Eyebrows jumping, he can’t help  himself. He sighs, trails his fingers in circles and feels the hair cling as it twists into little curls. Since he went to his knees, he’s been fighting off the ache of desire from his pants, but touching her with no barrier between them is enough to set him off.

 Tempting as it is to linger, her curls are ineffective at holding his fingers in place as he pulls his hand back to climb into the bed beside her. She remains still, silent.

 “I’ll show you how much I love you,” he coos in a whisper. Every point of contact between them is almost electric. Working his arm under her pillow, she stirs again, but this time he shushes her with a kiss. Then another and another.

 By the time he realizes she’s out again, he’s pulled her lithe form against his, almost hoping she might cling back.

 Resigned, he sets her back down gently, the roll of her body enough to pull her shirt tighter. He swallows as he tugs it looser, and then pulls at the hem, exposing the marks on her ribcage. Jack lifts the fabric up until the shirt is no more than a thin band resting over her collarbones.

 Light as a feather, he follows a mark down to her breast. He thumbs over her nipple and then rolls it slowly.

 “You’re beautiful,” he says to himself as he lets go and gives her a full on squeeze. Her other breast neglected, he shifts until he’s nosing at her nipple and soon his tongue laps over it, until he’s suckling at her. Shame and lust leave a lingering flush over his face, pushing him to drag his hand down her torso, till he’s past the hem of her pants and past her short, soft bush.

 Angel’s hair isn’t enough to hide in, and he slips his hand over the entirety of her mound before edging fingertips against the gentle line it makes. Moving to adjust her legs apart and open her, he can feel the edges of her lower lips peeking out.

 With a whimper against her breast, he presses his fingers between them, parting her and feeling the slippery, smooth skin inside. He wants to press his fingers completely into her. Instead he presses the pads of them low against her till he feels the tiniest dip of give, but doesn’t dare add more pressure. She groans, tries to shift, but he holds her in place.

 “Easy, babygirl. This’ll feel good,” he promises, lips sloppy as he tongues against her stiff nipple. As if she were feeling any of this. He doesn’t think about it, but takes her response as reason to hold off a while.

 Holding off means keeping his fingers out for now, so he brings them up to circle her clit instead, rubbing gently. His touch is rewarded by the tiniest of reactions, a twitch here and there, a gasp.

 “Atta girl…” he murmurs encouragingly, though his heart pounds with nervous energy. The thought of her enjoying this is gratifying beyond belief. It makes his stomach flutter.

 Would she moan loudly, if she could? Maybe hold her hand over her mouth to stifle the sounds of her embarrassment? He fantasizes over both ideas as he continues to play with her, imagining her trying to keep up her usual detached tone while he pushed her further and further.

 He gasps as his fingers slide back down, no hesitation this time as he slips his middle finger into her with one slow, deliberate motion. She’s warm- the warmest he’s ever felt- slippery, and he can feel everything as his stomach turns.

 In the fantasy, Angel’s lip quivers, and she can’t help but whimper as her expression slips from guarded disinterest to intimate vulnerability. For once her eyes meet his and she looks lost, almost scared.

 “Just relax, honey. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he mutters, a deep shaky sigh ending his promise. Slowly Jack pushes his finger in a little, then pulls it back, indecisive. He nudges deeper and deeper. The hot press of her engulfing his finger is enticing enough to draw another sidelong the first, and he starts to ease them both in before pulling them back entirely. Greedily, though with actual consideration for her comfort, he sucks them and gets them slicker, tongue relishing her taste.

 Two fingers in, he shifts and presses the stiffness in his pants against her leg, rutting against her. His mouth falls slack, her nipple momentarily forgotten in his pleasure. Though his mind flickers through variations of the fantasy now, he’s already dreaming of what she’s going to feel like around his cock. A sense of urgency starts to boil in his gut.

 Decisively, he stops, trailing his fingers out to edge her pants further down until her thighs are bare as her chest. It doesn’t take much to roll her onto her side, facing away from him. Jack clumsily unzips the fly of his pants with a stray swear or two for his lack of dexterity. Roughly, he jerks them down, no need to worry about underwear because he doesn’t wear any.

 Then, pulling her till there’s no gap for even air between them, he angles his cock down against her. It slips between the cold skin of her thighs, though not in her yet. Fantasy is one thing, but reality… he’s not sure he’s ready for that. His hand on her hip, he rocks her gently, and digs the other under her, holding the rest of her near.

 The soft fuzz of the shaved part of Angel’s hair brushes against his cheek. He bites his tongue and presses his lips together, only the uneven breaths through his nose ticking past her ear. Limp as she is, it’s easy to move her just right; he thrusts and slips against her, but it’s not enough, and his resolve is crumbling with every unfulfilling rut against her.

Finally he can’t resist anymore and lets her hip go to stroke himself. Self restraint is difficult to muster, and he groans through his teeth as he keeps his hand slow as he can, nudging the tip up against her as he works. Still slick from his fingering her, Jack can feel Angel’s lips give just a little more with every press. Very slowly, the very tip of his cock spreads her open, until he’s faced with the actual decision.

Almost dizzy, heart pounding in his throat, he opens his eyes and stares across the room at nothing at all. He can feel her warm against his cock, can feel the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Most of all, he can almost feel the beat of her heart, almost tender.

“Prove it.” he remembers, and he dips his head in resignation.

Entirely still save the shudders that he can’t shake off, he kisses her ear and then tilts his hips forward. Though friction ensures his progress is slow, Jack moans as he feels himself penetrating her, until he’s pulling back. The next thrust is easier, slicked down with the wetness from within. Each time he quickens the pace, and each time he can feel the wetness spreading, making it easier to slip back in.

“Baby,” he groans, mouth open now as he leaves hot breath against her.

“Angel, honey…” he trails off, pet names overflowing though he can hardly think to speak at all. Singing- or at least, whispering her praises as he fucks her. He lets his hand roam back to her hip, rolling her back into his thrusts. He finds himself biting his lip as he groans.

Though she’s completely out of it, he can feel her shudder here and there along with him. Jack shuts his eyes to listen to the sounds she offers, going back to that earlier fantasy. Utterly lost in her, he fails at keeping a steady motion, one moment thrusting quickly and the next slowly, reverently thrusting, his hands gripping her tighter.

“That’s it sweetie,” he coaxes her as he hits a steady rhythm finally. He feels the pleasure mounting, clenches his jaw, rides it out for as long as he can. Jack’s desperate pants filling the silent room, he whimpers and jolts.

Suddenly, he pulls back from her, moving both of them quickly, too desperate to be gentle. Laying her on her back, he tears one of her legs out of her pants and climbs back onto her. He slips himself back in and keeps going, holding himself up on his elbows and cupping her face. Jack lays kisses on her cheeks, her lips, all of them desperately as he feels that threshold about to burst.

When her eyes begin to flutter and he finds himself in the focus of Angel’s bright blue gaze, he tips over that edge, mouth open as he gasps for air. Her eyes shut, and he mouths the words ‘I love you’ to her, rubbing his thumb over her cheek as Jack rides out his orgasm. His head hangs down to rest in the hollow of her neck as his thrusts begin to falter, then still altogether.

He gives her lips one last weary kiss before he retreats, legs almost too shaky to support himself as crawls out of bed. Jack pulls his pants back up with trembling fingers. His heart pounds like he’s just run a marathon, though his mind seems clearer now. As soon as his pants are fixed, he turns back to her.

“You look better than that felt,” he says to himself, almost a joke, though his voice is too heavy to be playful. Jack left her a mess- hair fanned out beneath her, shirt yanked up, pants half on. The bush between her legs looks shiny with slick sweat, though no longer enticing so much as worrying.

Silently, he goes about setting her back the way he found her. Automatically Jack adjusts order back into her pajamas, and wipes away the worst of the wetness. An empty gesture, given what he’s done.

By the time he’s finished, she looks like nothing happened at all. It’s a pleasant illusion, he thinks as he smooths down a wrinkle in the blanket beside her.

One last brush of his thumb to move the hair out of her face, then he sighs.

 “Anything, Angel.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> A thank you to my beta for helping edit this into something much better than it was before.


End file.
